You'd think

After almost 4 decades, I'd be over this addiction.



1 muffin, please.

We stopped at Barnes N Nobles one afternoon after school. You know how they have those display cases with all the goodies in their Cafe? Kaleo spootted it, and decided that he was hungry. Shoots.

"You want a Bagel, big guy?"


"Well lets see what they got, huh?"

The talker

So we traipse over to the small line that is at the counter, he decides to window shop at the display case. He sees something, and with the Barista right behind where he is looking, he goes (very politely, yet very sure, and loud not over loud, but loud-E-Nuf)

"I'd like 1 MUFFIN, Please!"

(with his index finger pointing straight to the sky)

I almost pee'd meself.

Then he changed his mind.

"No, I'd like 1 COOKIE please"

(again with the index finger straight... (to the moon, Alice)

We got our cookie, and a drink and consumed.

The next day he is playing with his Lego's and quietly building and destroying worlds.

Cathy walks by and hears him say -

"I'll have a beer"

I dont even say that.

A couple days later, I am in the queens shower, scrubbing the walls with cleaner and in general trying to not get high from the odors.

He walks up after getting home from school and says -

"Hi Papa! Whatcha doing? Getting rid of all the germs?"

I am at such a loss with this guy.

He was up at 0420 this AM, and thats why I am typing. He is sleeping now with is Grammie, and I am now off to FIRE.

I'd just like to last a while in his childhood, and make better the things in this world, so that love, honor and respect can flourish all the days of our Keiki's lives.



The Pinks propaganda of 'absolutely' has me absolutely pissed the hell off.

K. M. A.

Right around the end of last year, my boss at the hell asks for me to have a chit - chat. So I go in and she says blah blah blah and such - basically HINTS that hours are gonna be cut, now according to union rules, that means shit to me, since I have been here 28 years.

Long mother story short. The gal below me (whom i was giving the 8 hour shifts to on my own niceity, since it was her only job, insurance, blah blah blah) gets mysteriously jumped over me in senority on the next schedule.


You cant do that.

You cant also take my measly additional second job pay and cut it to 1 work day and a paycheck of 27 dollars (I put the bulk to savings and a small loan)

Because that'll piss me off.

And I'll have to go to the union, to get my back pay 112+ hours so far, (but whose counting? ... ME!)

And then I gotta be a dick and take all the hours when they say you cant do that to the boss, and the gal below will be bummed (Fuck you, I was being nice, not STUPID!)

Much rather be here.


We'll see soon enough.

I'll get to the " 1 Muffin please!....and 1 Cookie please!...I'll have a beer...and last but not least ..."You taking care of the germs, yeah, Papa?"...soon. Classic stuff.



Fact > Fiction

Reservation request at Hotel De Hell tonight -

People; are strange.


Salt Water Reasons

You cant put a price on what its like to put yourself into Mother Oceans arms.

I imagine it started a long time ago, probably when my Tutu Kane (grandpa) and my Dad threw me back and forth in the waters of Hanauma Bay.

I was scared shitless. I always had been of the ocean. All that life going on under that calm blue didnt fool me; the mother was waiting to yank me unde a drown my sorry ass. It did not care if I was 5 or 6 or whatever I was then. I remember even in first grade, that pic of the lobsters and crabs on the bulletin board, I'd walk as far away fom that shot, scared that the reptiles would clamp one of those claws around my throat and cease my exsistence.

With what life was like at that school, maybe it would have been better, but the conspiracy was set, I was to sufer awhile more until my life would change later, wetter, and for the better.

Me and Sean would peddle to Sandy's. We'd watch his brothers 8mm films of North Shore waves in the dark in his room. I'd freak the hell out when he'd charge out into the surf; and ask me why i didnt follow. He was one of the first people I confided in; I told him I was scared; he told me what the hell? You go nuts playing football, running and shit, and hiking the hills with me; how can YOU be scared?

I was.

We sat on the beach that dawn, watching the waves.

And he said this- "You watch that wave, you count how long in takes or it to break, wash to shore, and calmly run back to the ocean" - "and you tell me you cant hold your breath that long"

"and dont fucking panic, man, dont panic, and its all good"

And it was.

We were like 10 or 11.

40 years later, I stil cant explain what it is like; what it is like to get up, crack the dawn, head out, smell the ocean LIFE, the salt the spray.

Not knowing what the conditions will be like Great? Junk? Who knows? You went. You just went to the beach, surfed the anger out, flopped on the beach, burnt, exhausted, and so satisified with the entire world, that food didnt matter, getting high didnt matter, the demands didnt matter. Nothing. It was ALL GOOD.

You didnt die, you conquered something, somehow, someway. You experienced things sights and feelings that only you will know. Cause ever drop of water is different. Every single one.

Totally useless event in the worlds eye, but the whole world to me.

In facing some of the actions of the ocean; seeing what appears to be impending death headed to me, and surviving it, makes you stronger?


It makes you thankful.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 and so on. Time will come when those numbers will have ended.

Perhaps maybe then my friends will feel fit to judge me

But when I meet my maker, there are 1 or 2 things I'd sure like to ask him

Apologies to Crash Test Dummies.